Sherry's Selection
by Jayde R. Lake
Summary: When Sherry lands on the doorstep of the Angels, a family of Twos and one of the richest in Illea, her life becomes one of servitude and abuse. But when she is one of the 35 girls chosen to participate in Prince Cole's Selection, in her mind, things go from really bad to even worse. The question is why, and only Sherry knows the answer. OC AND OC-CENTERED PLOT! SYOC CLOSED!
1. Sherry and Servitude

"Sherry! Sherry! Wake up you worthless piece of garbage! I haven't got time for this."  
"Ugh, 'm sleeping. Five more minutes?" I figured he could wait on me at least this once, especially given what's going on soon.  
That was the wrong thing to say, and I should have known that, but I guess I wasn't thinking straight. The hard, bruising kick to the stomach was enough to remind me that I should, though.  
"You little bitch! I don't have time for your attitude today, not with the forms arriving and the preparations that needto be made. So get your act together and be ready in the front room in five minutes." Then he left.

I dragged my body up into a sitting position, leaning against the cold concrete. I lifted my shirt up enough so I could see where he had kicked me.  
_Damn, that's going to bruise. And that'll piss them off more_.  
But I still managed to get up on my feet, ponytail my hair with an old rubber band, and trudge up the basement stairs. Luckily, I managed to get to the front room with 1:27 minutes to spare. Not that it would matter.

"Finally. We've been waiting for you for ages! I had to get up _on my own_ this morning! How could you?" Asked a whiny, petulant voice.  
That's one of my "sisters", Arabella, though why my parents even bother trying to pretend is beyond me. Let me explain. Three years ago, I crashed on the doorstep of the Angels, a family of Twos and one of the richest, outside of the royal family, of course, who are Ones. See, we live in a caste system, where your job, wealth, and everything else is decided by your caste number.  
So one might say I was lucky to land on their doorstep, but since I'm treated like a slave I wouldn't be so sure. So now that you know the caste system where the better your number the better off you are, I'll tell you a little something about the Angels.  
My "family" consists of two sisters, Arabella and Rosalie, my mother, Jennifer, and Michael, the head of the family and CEO of AngelTech Industries, a business that serves just about all of Illéa. Or rather, all of Illéa serves AngelTech. The Sixes that clean the building, the Fives that preform in the ads, the Fours building in the factories, and the Twos, and Threes, who are the main customers, among others, and the sevens and eights who do the less…desirable jobs. And since the company is situated in Angeles, Illéa's capitol, Michael Angel practically owns everything…and everyone.

But I'm sure you're not here to hear about the Angels' life stories, are you? Well, if you want to know about me there's not much to tell, because my existence basically sums up to putting up with this everyday:

"If I oversleep I'll get wrinkle lines or something! Daddy, how could you let her do this?" Arabella whined. Michael looked at his younger daughter and said

"Don't worry Pumpkin, I'll buy you a brand new dress for your lottery photo. As for her," He said, turning to me with a look that said "there'll be trouble", "She will have extra work to do. Maybe I'll let the Sixes have the night off and go help their daughters get ready. They need all the help they can get."

"You say that like they actually have a chance," Said my other sister, Rosalie. "Honestly, the only reason there are Sixes in the Selection at all is so that whole stupid caste can feel special. Like that's important. Speaking of importance, I need a dress for _my_ lottery photo too!" But she really didn't. I mean, if Rosalie became one of the selected, she would probably be one of the biggest threats to the others with her wide caramel eyes, silky chocolate hair, and full lips. It also didn't hurt that she had ample cleavage too. But of course, being the spoiled brat that she is, Rosalie _had _to get something new, if only for the fact that her sister did too. Or maybe because she wouldn't be caught dead in last season's clothes.

"Michael, dear, I hate to admit it, but shouldn't we find something for Sherry to wear?" She grimaced as she said this, as if saying we had to give an Eight room and board for a night. "I mean, she can't go out looking like this, and if people were to find out the truth our reputation would be ruined!"

"She can borrow one of the girls' old things," He said dismissively. Then we all headed into the dining room of the mansion, one of the few mansions left, for breakfast. And no, I didn't eat with my so called family, if you're wondering, I_ served_ them. So anyway, as I said before, I landed on the doorstep of the Angel family. Literally, one of the servants found me knocked out on the steps, went to Michael, and then brought me inside. I was around the same age as their daughters (14), so for whatever crazy reason they kept me. A whole story was concocted on how I was the long lost daughter, Sherry, who had been kidnapped at birth and then "miraculously returned home". At least, that was what the public knew. In reality, I was treated worse than a Six, doing just about every possible job the Angel family could imagine. I got one set of new clothes a year, nothing for Christmas or any other holiday (not that anybody knows many other holidays nowadays), and they didn't even bother with my birthday after the initial fake birth certificate. I slept on the cold, hard cement floor of the basement with only a threadbare blanket for warmth, and the only times I would be dressed up were when the entire Angel family had to be present. Even then, I wore one of the girls' old dresses and the only makeup I would have on was to cover up any marks.

It's not that I cared though. I had much bigger things to worry about. Unfortunately, right now that meant scrubbing the floor in the front room. I rubbed the brush over a particularly resilient scuff mark, as if getting rid of it could get rid of my problems. And I have to say, while it didn't whisk them away into thin air, doing so certainly made me feel better. After I finished cleaning the floors, all of them, I had to clean all the rooms, make the beds from top to bottom, do the laundry (thank God for washing machines and dryers), prepare lunch, and clean the chimneys. All seven of them. And that was just for the morning. By the time early afternoon was rolling around, Arabella and Rosalie were practically running around the house in excitement. That was because this was the time the Illéa Postal service would be coming. And with it, three forms that would change someone's life forever.


	2. SYOC Rules

**SYOC RULES**

**Name:**

**Age:**

**Province:**

**Caste (no more 6):**

**Birthday (preferably yours, year not needed):**

**Appearance:**

**Height-**

**Hair-**

**Eyes-**

**Pre-Clothes-**

**Gown preference (full skirt, day dress, top style, etc. and gown color preferences)-**

**Personality-**

**Hobbies-**

**Special Talents**

**Languages-**

**Occupation-**

**After Makeup-**

**Family:**

**Likes-**

**Dislikes-**

**Reason for entering-**

**Thoughts on Prince-**

**Thoughts on Queen Liana-**

**Thoughts on King Eric-**

**Romantic History-**

**How they treat other contestants-**

**How they treat guards and servants-**

**Strategy to win-**

**Ideal First Date:**

**Hopeful Ending if not with Prince Cole-**

**Two reasons why I should select your character-**

**Alright, so these are the things that need to be filled out in order to submit a character. Each person may submit up to TWO characters each as far as Selection characters, but you are allowed to submit additional characters like maids and guards. The latter will be playing a larger role in the story, so make them good. The first NINE characters who are submitted with enough background and who are interesting will be The Elite. Now, about the prince. I don't really want to spoil anything before he makes his chapter debut, but in order to help with the SYOC, here are a few things. His name is Cole Schreave. He is cold, distant, and mainly doing The Selection because he has to. So you can still put seduction as a strategy, but it probably won't work. Finally, the name of this fanfiction is **_**Sherry's Selection**_** so whether or not she wins it at the end, it's her story. Just remember that, and most importantly, have fun with this.**


	3. That Damn Form

Our young country, Illéa, has a monarchy. The royal family in question are the Schreaves, Ones, and the highest caste you could be here. Since we are still a relatively young nation, someone had the bright idea that princesses of Illéa could be used in marriage contracts to forge alliances with other nations. So for once in history, it seems that they were the desired gender. Sons, on the hand, were more for moral boosters for the country as far as marriage goes, even though they still ended up with the crown. Each time a prince came of age, an event called The Selection would begin. In it, every young woman in Illéa who was eligible had the option of filling out a form, sending it to their Province Service Office, and had the chance to be one of 35 selected young girls to compete for the heart of the prince. Once the prince made his choice, she and her family became Ones, royalty, living a nice, happy life without ever having to worry about the future again. Well, unless the princess never got pregnant, but that's never happened, so…

And this is the main thing that has the Angels all riled up right now. It's also why they're being "nicer" to me. If I'm entered in addition to Arabella and Rosalie, the odds triple that an Angel is in the selection. And while I'm certainly not ideal material for them, and being in The selection means I'll be expected to be in the spotlight more-inviting the risk of people discovering my abuse- especially if I make it to the Elite, if I somehow win, in their minds, I would be princess and later queen, but the Angel family would be the ones pulling the strings. Unfortunately for them, I have other things going on. And being in The Selection would ruin them. I mean, don't get me wrong, being away from the Angels has its advantages as far as erasing oneself. But I would also be considered property of Illéa the moment my name gets called so, complications either way, I suppose.

Then there's Prince Cole. He's very good looking; there's no denying that very dark hair and smoldering dark eyes are a nice combination with a prominent jaw, all added to the fact that he's fit and muscular. (Think Ian Somerholder). But it's his personality that gets at me. Now, I suppose I can't really accurately judge him since 1), I've never met the guy, and 2), because I'm not really allowed to watch much of the Report so I don't see many interviews he gives. From what I have seen, I can describe Prince Cole as cold, distant, curt, businesslike, and the one time he seemed almost bored with the Report, like it was just a waste of time. Then there was the Rebel-Terrorist thing. Let me explain.

About a year after I became a ward (slave) of the Angels, there was an emergency Report saying that there was a group of terrorists that infiltrated Illéa who were planning to stop a very important meeting between King Eric, Queen Elisabeth X of the New United Kingdom, and Queen Nicoletta of Italy. Decisive action was taken, and Prince Cole and an elite team of soldiers quickly caught the group. After much interrogation, it was revealed that they were only a small cell, part of a much larger group. And what was worse, they were home grown. So once the interrogations were finished, the prince, on live television, promptly killed all seven members of the cell without so much as flinching. His sword covered in blood, he turned to face the camera and said, quite simply, "This is what happen to traitors." He of course later said the decision wasn't made lightly but still. There was uproar and media coverage for weeks. And all I could think was _'He's a killer. This country is going to be handed over to a cold-blooded killer.' _And now it's time for his selection. All the girls who enter must either be doing so for the crown or because they have some delusion that they will be the one to warm his heart. But I've seen what he is. The Selection isn't going to change that killing instinct. Nothing can. It eats you up, and the only thing you can do is repress it, and it looks like he isn't doing that anytime soon.

* * *

Arabella and Rosalie are sitting on the couches in the drawing room, which they normally wouldn't except the window provides a perfect view of the drive which the truck carrying three forms for the Angel household is due to come up. They have been squealing and gossiping with their friends about The Selection all day, while I was doing laundry, mopping, and washing all the windows in the front. Now, At 3:30 in the afternoon, we were all sitting and waiting for the mailtruck to arrive. I had changed into my least worn pair of jeans (that were still very faded and worn, though miraculously had no holes), and my best T-shirt, which had minimal staining and surprisingly no holes, but like I said, they're my best clothes so…

Anyway, my sisters were going for sitting rigid and still on the couches, like princesses, which was entertaining to watch because they were lazy with their posture most of the time and they were both constantly twitching and moving their hands and slouching without even realizing it, and then they'd start arguing, saying the other was slouching, and slapping at each other's hands and it was _annoying._

I, meanwhile, had a very rare opportunity to relax on a couch, so I was saying "screw posture and etiquette!" Unfortunately, Rosalie and Arabella's bickering had reached a whole new level and I'd finally had enough so I said

"Quiet!"

The two looked at me in utter shock, probably because I'd never raised my voice to them before.

"Sherry," Snapped Arabella angrily, "What the hell are you doing?"

Thinking fast, I hoped to god that I would get lucky and I turned and looked out the window.

"Well, you two were arguing so much you didn't realize that the mail guy's here." I pointed to the window, and there was a guy wearing a uniform with the Illéa postal insignia, carrying three envelopes and walking up the path.

My initial thought that I would have to answer the door was wrong because my sisters raced out of the room and I could hear the girls trampling each other to get to the door first. _ Thank god for that bit of luck._ I took my time going to the front door, and when I got there Rosalie gave me my envelope with a disdainful look.

"Here," She snipped. "Why Daddy insists that you enter is beyond me but don't you dare hamper my chances with the prince, you hear me?"

"Like you have a better chance than me, Ro. Everyone knows I'm prettier than you."

"Can it Arabella! Everyone knows these lovely things," She motioned to her breasts, "Will give me a huge advantage over the likes of you."

As soon as I heard that I went to go find something to write with. That had always been a particularly sore subject for Arabella, and Rosalie never missed an opportunity to remind her of that. I found a nice, simple ballpoint pen, sat down at the dining room table, and finally took a look at the envelope.

It was normal size, but the paper quality was far superior to anything I'd seen here so far, even with the fact that the Angels are rich. There was a wax impression of the national emblem to keep it sealed, and I tore that before moving on to the actual letter.

_To the House of Angel,_

_The recent census has confirmed that three women between the ages of sixteen and twenty currently reside in your home. We would like to make you aware of an upcoming opportunity to honor the great nation of Illéa. Our beloved prince, Cole Schreave, is coming of age this month. As he ventures into this new part of his life, he hopes to move forward with a partner, to marry a true daughter of Illéa If your eligible daughter, sister, or charge is interested in possibly becoming the bride of Prince Cole and the adored Princess of Illéa, please fill out the enclosed form and return it to your Provinces Service Office. Thirty-five women will be drawn at random to meet the prince. Participants will be housed in the lovely Illéa Palace in Angeles for the duration of their stay. The families of each participant will be generously compensated for their service to the royal family. Each participant will have ten days to submit the form with no exceptions. The Selected will be announced two weeks from today on the Illéa Capitol Report. Good luck to you all, and God Bless Illéa!_

I had mixed thoughts reading the letter. On one hand, I must enter or face a very bad punishment, which is saying a lot considering my life here so far. One the other, there is a very small, microscopic chance that I could get selected, but if I do then my every move will be watched, primarily since the terrorist cells have started to get a bit bolder. So I'm basically between a rock and a hard place. Still, might as well fill out the damn form. At this rate, it'll probably be worse if I don't. So next I took out the form.

It was made of the same material as the envelope and letter, and was folded up to fit inside. The first few questions were fairly straightforward- Name: Sherry Angel, Age: 17, Caste: Two, Height and Weight: 5ft.8in. and 90 pounds. What can I say, I get starved half the time. But this is where it started to get weird. Hair, Eye, and Skin color: Blonde, Blue, White. Languages you're fluent in? Why the hell would that matter if this is a lottery. But, since they'd love to know: English, Spanish, French, Portuguese, Italian, Polish, Swedish, Russian, Japanese, Mandarin…And no, I'm not just putting those on there to sound impressive. I did find the time to learn all those. Education: private tutors, for the sake of pretending. Special skills: Um, waltzing and I do know how to play the piano. Just a bit. Among other things that I probably shouldn't put down here.

After I finished filling out the form, I went to look for Michael and found him in his study. Of course he'd be there. The door was open, but I knocked lightly anyway.

"What?" He looked up. "Oh, it's you. Did you fill out the form?"

"Yes, have my sisters?"

"Not quite, but of course when you're as special and have as many skills it takes a bit longer." He frowned as he read my form. "Sherry, what the hell did you put on here?" Oh, no. That's his 'I'm Pissed' voice. Michael was really mad.

"Why the hell are you lying, you little fuck?"

Okay, keep it calm. He needs you. "I'm not. You've just never bothered to learn anything about me."

His face turned purple with rage and turned into something ugly. "Ten languages? Waltzing? Piano!? What the hell do you play, Bach?"

"Mozart. And it's not that difficult to learn that many once you're trilingual." Wrong thing to say, _way_ wrong thing to say. He came over to me and slapped me, so hard that I fell onto the ground. Then he kicked me. Over and over in the stomach, the legs, the chest, the back, pulled at my hair, but never my face. Not a scratch on my face. Must keep appearances, after all. And it hurt to breathe. Hurt to breathe, hurt to speak, hurt to move. And then it all went dark.

**So sorry for the long wait for this chapter, but I have been out with a sinus infection that was really bad and I had two major projects during the weekend when it was at its worst, so fanfiction was far from my mind. So you all know, I am still in school so the main time I will be able to work on fanfiction is the weekend unless I am swamped with homework. Or sick. I am already working on the third chapter, hopefully the wait won't be as long. I am one of those people who hates when a story is never updated so I keep that in mind when I write.**

**On the subject of the SYOC, I have realized that I cannot uphold the promise of the first nine entries being The Elite. I am sorry, but it just won't work out for the story. Rest assured, every character has been accepted so far. Currently, there is still time to submit, but not much, at least for Selected girls. Don't forget, guards and maids are submitable too. PM me if you have any questions or characters.**


End file.
